Phantom of Delight
by slytherinrules85
Summary: Hermione and Ron are together, but are they happy? What's with Ginny? And what happens when Draco Malfoy pushes his way into things?
1. Original Version

**10/11/04**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the poems featured in this fic.

**A/N:** So, this is my new fic. Interesting beginning, no? I'm really happy with this, so I hope you like this. Read on!

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"You don't understand," Ron fumed.

"Then make me understand, Ronald!" Hermione yelled at him. "Tell me why you would copy my assignment and hand it in as yours!"

Ron threw a pillow into the fireplace. He threw a pleading look at Harry, who was watching from a safe distance, wand at the ready. "No, Ron," Harry said. "I can't, and won't help you now." Ron turned back to Hermione.

"You're so bleeding smart," he hissed, "why should you care? You only work this hard because you're a Muggleborn." Hermione gasped at him. He went on mercilessly. "If I fail this course, then I'd be a laughingstock. I'm a pureblood, I _can't_ look idiotic and ignorant of _my own kind_."

"Ronald Weasley," Hermione spat. "You are the biggest wanker in the history of this school." She slapped him across his face. "I will never speak to you again, unless you apologize." She whirled around and marched out of the common room in a rage.

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Hermione ran down the corridor and to the staircases. She ran all the way to the library and sat down in a back chair in the Arithmancy section.

Collapsing into the chair, she started to sob.

'You're so bleeding smart. Why should you care?' 

'_You only work this hard because you're a Muggleborn.'_

"Well, well, well." A cold drawl washed over her. She looked up. Draco Malfoy was leaning on a bookcase, a cold look in his gray eyes. "What have we here? A Mudblood pity-party." He smirked. "Oh, wait. All your days are pity-parties, Granger."

"Bugger off, Malfoy," she spat.

Malfoy moved closer. "Aw, is the little Mudblood crying? Something happen with Potty and the Weasel?"

"Hey." They turned. Ron, accompanied by Professor McGonagall, was standing where Malfoy had been only a moment before.

McGonagall marched over to Malfoy and grabbed his collar. "Mr. Malfoy! Really! Twenty-five points from Slytherin! Kicking someone when she's down. I will be having a word with your Head of House, believe me." She dragged him away.

Ron approached Hermione tentatively. Holding out a scroll, he sat down next to her, braving her glare. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said. "I- I told McGonagall what I did. Here's your paper back."

Hermione took the scroll and unwound it. On the top of the paper was a 100. She looked up at Ron, slightly tearstained, and cried a bit more.

"Aw, Hermione," he said, hugging her. "Don't cry." He stroked her hair.

"Ron, you misunderstand," she sniffed, "these are happy tears."

He looked down at her for a moment, then bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips. She reciprocated, and soon they were kissing deeply.

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Two Months Later...

Hermione and Ron walked, hands twined together, with Harry down to the Great Hall for breakfast. They laughed at joke that Ron told as they entered and walked over to the Gryffindor table.

Hermione glanced up from her breakfast to see Malfoy watching her, oblivious to Parkinson talking at him. When he saw her look back, he glanced away, looking at Blaise Zabini, who was motioning rather violently about something.

Ginny tapped her shoulder. Hermione jumped a bit then looked over at the girl sitting next to her. "Hi Ginny."

"Morning Hermione," Ginny replied. She picked up a piece of toast and nonchalantly said, "Blaise Zabini's quite good-looking."

Hermione glanced at the aforementioned male. "I suppose so," she agreed.

"And he doesn't seem like a typical Slytherin," Ginny said, buttering her toast. "You know, like Malfoy."

"No, he doesn't." Hermione flicked a glance at Ron, who was energetically describing a move he'd seen at a Quidditch game that summer. "Why?"

Ginny's face turned red. "Oh, um," she said, "no reason. None at all. Was just mentioning it, that's all." 

"Oh," Hermione said, smiling a bit at her friend. "Sure."

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That weekend, Hermione, Ron and Harry set out for Hogsmeade, chatting excitedly about buying things at Zonko's, the new Weasley's Wizarding Wheeze's opening up, and, of course, butterbeer from The Three Broomsticks.

As Ron and Harry went into Quality Quidditch Supplies, Ron kissed Hermione as she made her way to the new bookstore, a branch of Flourish and Blotts. She smiled at him and went off.

She opened the door to the store, she grinned widely at the books stacked everywhere. She went down an aisle and picked up a book on 11th century politics. Reading, she leant against the bookcase behind her.

A voice drifted to her ears. "O my love is like a red, red rose, that's newly sprung in June. O my love is like the melody that's sweetly played in tune." Hermione crept closer. She saw a flash of blonde.

"As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, so deep in love am I, and I will love thee still, my dear, till all the seas gang dry." She stood some ways off, watching this man read. His free hand motioned as he read out loud, not knowing he had an audience.

"Till all the seas gang dry, my dear, and the rocks melt with the sun! And I will love thee still my dear, while the sands of life shall run." He stepped to his right, then backwards.

"And fare thee well, my only love, and fare thee well a while! And I will come again, my love, though it were ten thousand mile." Hermione heard a snap as the man closed the leather-bound volume of poems. She sighed, then clapped a hand over her mouth as he turned around sharply. It was Malfoy.

Draco turned around at the sound behind him and saw Granger standing some ways down, looking mortified at him as he walked towards her.

He looked at her, really looked, and saw two small tears in her eyes, glistening.

Before he said anything, she spoke. "Before you berate me, Malfoy," she said, "I want to tell you that that was really beautiful."

For a moment, he allowed himself to be shocked. Then he plastered a sneer on his face. "Really, Mudblood? I suppose I should be insulted to hear someone so impure and idiotic enough to date the Weasel tell me that my orating is 'beautiful'." She looked a bit defeated.

"I don't see, Malfoy," she snapped back at him, "why everything I say to you must be taken out of context or as an insult. My statement was made outside of my prejudices and was kindly meant. If you chose to take it as an insult, that's your prerogative."

He stared at her as she marched past him, up the poetry aisle, and disappeared out of the door. Shaking himself, he walked back to the shelf and picked out a few more books as he went along to the cashier.

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Hermione stalked, fuming, to Honeyduke's to find Ginny. She opened the door to the store and stormed past several third-years on their first trip to Hogsmeade. Stopping for a moment, she walked over to the truffle aisle and saw Ginny and Blaise Zabini laughing together over something. Hermione smiled slightly.

"Hello, Ginny, Blaise," she said. They froze.

"He- Hermione," Ginny said. "Please don't tell Ron. He- He wouldn't like it. Not yet."

Hermione smiled. "I won't." She looked at Ginny expectantly. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your charming—and speechless—boyfriend?" 

Ginny giggled. "Blaise, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Blaise Zabini, my boyfriend," she said. Blaise and Hermione shook hands.

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Draco pushed the door to Honeyduke's open and sniffed arrogantly at the third-years that passed him as he walked sedately to the truffle aisle, to look for Blaise. He thought Blaise would like a look at the poetry books as well, and he wanted to meet this mystery girl of his, bigotry, as Blaise had needled him into promising, laid aside.

As he turned the corner, his eyes fell on Blaise, Granger, and younger Weasel.

"Well, well," he drawled, "what's this?"

Blaise fixed him with a glare. "Draco," he said, "this is my girlfriend, Ginny."

Draco froze. Girlfriend? When did that happen? "Girlfriend? Weasley?" he managed to croak out.

Granger looked rather smug. She must've known about it. "Wow, Malfoy, speechless? Fascinating." She looked at the Weasel— Ginny, he had to call her, for Blaise. "I should take a picture. It would last longer."

"Ha, ha, Granger," he retorted. "I'm paralyzed with laughter. See?"

"All I see is a git," she muttered. Ginny elbowed her. "What?"

"You see why I didn't tell you!" the Weasley told Granger. "And why Blaise didn't tell you, Malfoy," she said, shaking her finger at him. "Because you two would just fight. Imagine what Ron and Harry are going to say."

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Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry Ginny," she said. She looked pointedly at Malfoy, who, for a moment, looked confused. Then he got it.

"Sorry Blaise," he said grudgingly.

"That's all well and good," Blaise said, holding Ginny's hand. "But how do we know that you two will keep our secret?"

"I promise I won't tell Harry and Ron," Hermione said.

"I promise that I won't lord my knowledge of this over Potty and the Weasel, causing them to tease me that I don't know anything about Ginny, causing me to get mad and blurt everything out stupidly," Draco said.

"That's nice," Ginny said. "But we do need you two to help us out. There aren't many private places at the Castle, and we need you two to keep Harry and Ron away from us during our dates."

Hermione glanced at Malfoy. He shrugged, unconcerned. "Sure," he said. "It seems like a laugh."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll help, too." She looked sternly at both of them. "But no having sex on my desk in classrooms, that's just gross." Ginny laughed and hugged Hermione.

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Hermione walked with Ginny to The Three Broomsticks, where they waited for Harry and Ron.

Fifteen minutes later, Blaise and Malfoy came in. Blaise walked over and kissed Ginny quickly.

"Blaise!" She giggled. "You should do that in public!" she hissed at him. Hermione and Malfoy rolled their eyes.

"I know," Blaise said, "but I couldn't help it." The door started to creak open, and he and Malfoy fled to a table on the opposite end of the room.

Harry and Ron came in, each holding Quality Quidditch Supplies bags, chatting about what they had purchased.

"Hey!" Hermione said, waving to them. They saw her and made their way over to the table they were at.

"Hey love," Ron murmured, kissing Hermione. She smiled at him when he pulled back, but didn't say anything. "So," he went on, "where'd you all go?"

"Well," Hermione said, "I went to the bookstore, and," Ginny nudged her under the table, "met up with Ginny there," she went on, rubbing her side. "Then we went to Honeyduke's and looked at chocolates."

"Cool," Harry said. "Anyone want butterbeer? My treat." Everyone nodded, and he went off to the bar.

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"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Draco sighed. Closing his book, he drank the last bit of his butterbeer—contrary to popular belief, he didn't drink alcohol—and looked at his best friend. "Blaise," he said. "For the sake of everything that is holy—and some things that aren't—_please_ shut up about your girlfriend. I have no interest in you moaning on and on about her while I'm trying to read _The Night Has A Thousand Eyes_."

"What," Blaise said, "in the world is that?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco read, "The night has a thousand eyes, and the day but one; yet the light of the bright world dies with the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, and the heart but one; yet the light of a whole life dies when love is done." Draco smiled, a rare thing. "That's true beauty, Blaise. When someone can express their feelings through words that way."

Blaise patted Draco's shoulder. "You, my friend, might be a deeper and more introspective man than I," he said. "But, that is not necessarily a bad thing."

Draco rolled his eyes again and picked up his books, placing them in his bag, and got up. "I'll see you, Blaise," he said.

"Where're you going?"

"Back to the Castle," Draco replied.

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Hermione saw Malfoy leave, and got up herself. She picked up her bag, and smiled at Ron, Harry and Ginny.

"I'm going to go back now," she said.

"Back where?" Ron asked.

"Hogwarts, silly," she said, pecking him on the cheek. "I'll see you guys back at the Tower, okay?"

"All right," they said, and went back to discussing the Quidditch team.

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Hermione jogged to keep up with Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" she called. He stopped, and turned around, blonde hair falling into his eyes.

"What?" he asked, irritated. She caught up with him and stood, puffing, for a moment before answering.

"I was thinking," she started.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically.

Hermione frowned at him. "Ha, ha, Malfoy," she said. "Please be serious."

"I am always serious," he replied, smirking.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Now, I was thinking that we should at least learn to be civil to one another if we're to 'help' Blaise and Ginny out by keeping Ron and Harry off their backs." Malfoy laughed. "What?"

Laughing, Malfoy responded, "I just had an image of Potty and the Weasley on Blaise and Ginny's back whilst they were snogging." He laughed some more. "Sorry. Do go on."

Hermione sniggered, realizing that it was, indeed, funny. "Well, so I thought we might try to find out some things about each other. Don't we have patrol tonight?"

Malfoy dug in his bag and glanced at a piece of paper. "Yes. At 8:30."

"So, maybe we could, you know, chat during patrol?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy sighed. "This goes extremely against my character," he muttered. "But since it's for Blaise and all, and he's my closet friend, I suppose yes." Louder he said, "Yes, Granger, I'll do it. Tonight at 8:30."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. She kept walking with him, and he looked at her, puzzled.

"Why are you still here?" he asked.

"While that is extremely rude," Hermione said, "and I shouldn't answer it, I will. I chose to walk back to Hogwarts, and I just happen to be walking with you."

"I was walking to get my broomstick," Malfoy said. "Since we're trying to be 'civil' and all, I suppose I should offer you a ride back." Hermione gulped. Malfoy laughed. "Don't tell me you're afraid of brooms?" he said, laughing. "Hermione Granger, the Perfect Prefect, is afraid of brooms?"

Hermione glared at him. "I am not afraid," she said, "of brooms. I am afraid of heights."

"Then you are most definitely coming with me, Granger," he replied, tugging her arm. "Come on!" He pulled her over to a tree, and reached up to grab a broomstick hidden in its branches. "Nimbus 5000," he explained. "Supposed to be as fast as a Firebolt, but I doubt it." He mounted it, and pulled Hermione on behind him. "Hold on tight, now." He kicked off, and she grabbed the front of his robes.

"OhmyGod. OhmyGod. OhmyGod," Hermione repeated.

Malfoy laughed. Leaning forward, he accelerated over the walls of Hogwarts and they flew over the lake. The Giant Squid was pulling limbs off of trees and cheerfully throwing them at squirrels. Landing softly on a clear patch of grass, he helped her off the broom, and looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Now," Malfoy said, "was that so bad?"

Hermione glared at him and stalked off, leaving a puzzled Malfoy behind her.

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Three Months After That...

Draco and Hermione walked down the corridor laughing. He smiled down at her. Her cinnamon eyes gleamed in the torchlight. Her hair had been pulled out of her face with an elastic band. No longer bushy or frizzy, it was incredibly thick. Hermione had once told him it was like a bear rug on top of her head in the summer.

"There were two cats of Kilkenny, each thought there was one too many, so they quarreled and they fought, the scratched and they bit, till barrin' their nails, and the tips of their tails, instead of two cats, there weren't any," recited Draco.

Hermione laughed. "Honestly, Draco," she said. "I don't know how you find all of those poems!"

"This is one of my favorites," he said, grinning. "I never saw a Purple Cow, I never hope to see one; but I can tell you, anyhow, I'd rather see than be one."

Hermione laughed again. "This is one of my favorites," she replied. "Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker."

Draco's face split into a grin. He laughed.

They were patrolling the hallways near where Ginny and Blaise were on their date, to make sure Harry and Ron didn't stumble upon the lovebirds accidentally.

They heard voices and Draco stopped Hermione in the middle of the corridor, finger to his lips, shushing her.

"I dunno where she is, mate," Ron's voice said. "She didn't tell me. Said she'd be 'around'."

"That's okay, Ron, I just wanted to ask one question about the Transfiguration assignment," Harry replied. Hermione rolled her eyes. As their voices got nearer, she motioned to Draco that she didn't want to talk to them. He nodded, and pulled her into an alcove as Harry and Ron turned the corner.

Holding her against the wall, faces inches from one another, Draco looked at Hermione, breathing softly. He hesitated for a moment, hearing Harry and Ron's retreating footsteps, and then leaned over, kissing her.

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Hermione froze for an instant after Draco kissed her. Suddenly sparks seemed to emerge from him into her, and her hands gravitated to wrap around his neck.

Several minutes passed by while they did this, until Hermione regained her head. Pushing Draco away, she shook her head. "I can't," she whispered.

He fingered a piece of her hair. "Why not?"

"Because I'm seeing someone else."

Draco looked at her. His face seemed to slip back into a mask as he nodded. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, turning away. "It was uncalled for. It won't happen again." He walked off, ignoring her when she called to him.

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Draco paced in the Slytherin common room until Blaise floated in, still on high after meeting up with Ginny.

Spotting Draco, he stopped. "What's up, mate?" he asked, plopping down onto a leather couch.

Draco raked a hand through his hair, brushing the locks out of his face irritably. "I'm in love with Hermione Granger," he muttered. "And I don't know how to solve it."

Blaise looked at him, eyebrows quirked. He coughed. "I didn't think that one usually wanted to solve love," he remarked.

"Well," Draco went on, "she doesn't love me."

"Ah," Blaise said. "Well, then, you'll have to make her love you. You don't really know if she doesn't love you, just that she won't be with you. Am I right?"

"You're right," Draco said, begrudging the words.

"You two like that mushy poetry that Ginny seems to hate and want to throw into the very depths of hell," Blaise went on, "so why don't you write out some of your favorite love poems and send them to her?"

Draco glanced at Blaise. "Good idea, Zabini," he said, running down the hall to his dormitory.

Blaise propped his feet up. "I like to think so," he said smugly.

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A week later, Draco put his plan into action so as to not let her think it was him. In that week, he saw her and the Weasel get closer and start to cuddle and paw each other in public. It almost made him sick. Ginny, however, noticed his reaction and looked pityingly upon him. She had grown to dislike the idea of Hermione and Ron together, and wasn't to fond of them sucking face, as she called it, in plain view of most of the student body of Hogwarts.

So, Draco watched closely when the post arrived that morning, expertly observing without being observed.

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Hermione was surprised when an unfamiliar owl dropped a letter onto her plate at breakfast. Before it flew away, she could see it was a school owl, so the person sending the letter was wishing to be anonymous. Either that, or they didn't have an owl.

She picked up the letter. It had her name and address on it, but no return address. Flipping it over, she slit it open and unfolded the contents.

_She walks in beauty, like the night _

_Of cloudless climes and starry skies; _

_And all that's best of dark and bright _

_Meets in her aspect and in her eyes: _

_Thus mellowed to that tender light _

_Which Heaven to gaudy day denies. _

_One shade the more, one ray the less, _

_Had half impaired the nameless grace _

_Which waves in every raven tress, _

_Or softly lightens o'er her face; _

_Where thoughts serenely sweet express _

_How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. _

_And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, _

_So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, _

_The smiles that win, the tints that glow, _

_But tell of days in goodness spent, _

_A mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent._

Hermione glanced at Ron, who was looking inquisitively at her. "Did you send this to me?" she asked, handing him the letter.

He read it, ears getting redder and redder. "No," he said shortly. "But when I find out who did, he's going to be pounded into the ground." He threw the letter down and glared at every male that crossed his path as he left the Great Hall.

Hermione reached over and plucked the letter out of Ron's bread. Smoothing it out, she placed it into her bag and got up as the bell rang to go to class.

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The next day, the same owl swooped down and dropped an identical letter onto Hermione's plate. Ron turned red as she opened it and started to read.

_She was a phantom of delight _

_When first she gleamed upon my sight; _

_A lovely apparition, sent _

_To be a moment's ornament; _

_Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; _

_Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair; _

_But all things else about her drawn _

_From May-time and the cheerful dawn; _

_A dancing shape, an image gay, _

_To haunt, to startle, and waylay. _

_I saw her upon nearer view, _

_A spirit, yet a woman too! _

_Her household motions light and free, _

_And steps of virgin liberty; _

_A countenance in which did meet _

_Sweet records, promises as sweet; _

_A creature not too bright or good _

_For human nature's food, _

_For transient sorrows, simple wiles, _

_Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. _

_And now I see with eye serene _

_The very pulse of the machine; _

_A being breathing thoughtful breath, _

_A traveler between life and death; _

_The reason firm, the temperature will, _

_Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; _

_A perfect woman, nobly planned_

_To warn, to comfort, and command; _

_And yet a spirit still, and bright _

_With something of angelic light._

Hermione sniffed. Turning to Ginny, she remarked, "This admirer thinks of the most beautiful poems. William Wordsworth wrote this, Gin. Isn't it lovely?" Ginny read it, and as she was handing it back to Hermione, Ron grabbed it and read it.

"How dare this bastard!" he exploded. "How dare he infringe on my girl!"

Hermione stiffened. "Ron," she said quietly, "I am not 'your' girl. I am not a possession. And I will thank you," she grabbed the letter back, "not to read my mail."

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Draco watched this, not hearing what they were saying, but knowing it wasn't good.

He leaned back in his seat, tuning out the grunting of Crabbe and Goyle as they slobbered and chowed down their food.

He watched Hermione the rest of the day, without her knowing.

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On Wednesday, Hermione received another letter.

_If thou must love me, let it be for naught _

_Except for love's sake only. Do not say, _

"_I love him for his smile—his look—his way _

_Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought_

_That falls in well with mine, and certes brought _

_A sense of pleasant ease on such a day"—_

_For these things in themselves, Beloved, may _

_Be changed, or change for thee—and love, so wrought, _

_May be unwrought so. Neither love me for _

_Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry: _

_A creature might forget to weep, who bore _

_Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! _

_But love my for love's sake, and that evermore _

_Thou mayest love on, thought love's eternity. _

She smiled softly and folded the letter up. It felt nice, having someone writing her poetry, even though it wasn't there's. She liked having a secret admirer, who would likely never show his face. As her smile grew secret, her eyes wandered from her breakfast to the opposite end of the room. As their eyes connected, Hermione felt a shiver run down her body. Draco looked straight back at her, fiddling with a quill. Her heart stopped for a moment as he smiled and looked away, writing something on a piece of paper.

She resolved to get a sample of his writing, just to make sure. She didn't need to wait, however, as his eagle owl swooped from his shoulder to drop a letter into her hands. Ron was, luckily, looking in another direction as the owl swooped off.

Draco stood, and left the Great Hall, giving Hermione a meaningful glance as he did. She ripped open the letter as she moved to a seat closer to the doors.

_Hermione, _

_Get any interesting mail lately? _

_D.M. _

Hermione gasped, upturning a second-year's bowl of porridge, and shoved the letter in her bag as she jumped from the table and dashed out of the Great Hall.

As the doors shut behind her, she looked everywhere in the Entrance Hall. Draco was nowhere to be seen. She sighed, and went on to class early.

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It was Saturday before she got another letter. All the rest of that week she had been on edge, stiffening every time she accidentally brushed into Draco in the halls. She had also avoided Ron, which she felt awful for. But when the school owl swooped over her plate and a letter fell into her hands, she immediately looked at Draco, who was seated at the other end of the Hall. He nodded at her.

_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. _

_I love thee to the depth and breadth and height _

_My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight _

_For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. _

_I love thee to the level of everyday's _

_Most quiet need by sun and candle-light. _

_I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; _

_I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. _

_I love thee with the passion put to use _

_In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. _

_I love thee with a love I seemed to lose_

_With my lost saint,--I love thee with the breath, _

_Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, _

_I shall love thee better after death. _

_D.M. _

Hermione looked back up at him. His eyes seemed to be on fire, filled with something she had only seen when watching couples look at one another. She liked the way it seemed to fill her up, finding every corner and nook and warming the coldest places. When Ron looked at her, all she felt was fuzz, a sisterly love that seemed to cover everything he did.

She nodded slightly at Draco, and got up without any signs of excitement or over-eagerness. Draco rose moments after her, and followed, without giving the appearance of following, Hermione out of the Great Hall.

Once out, they ran down a corridor and burst outdoors. He grabbed her hand and led her to a secluded area. Taking both of her hands, he murmured, "I found this place in third year. I come here to think, or do school work." She glanced up at him. He didn't wait, he leaned down to kiss her thoroughly.

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"Come live with me and be my Love, and we will all the pleasures prove that valleys, groves, hills, and fields, woods or steepy mountains yields. And we will sit upon the rocks seeing the shepherds feed their flocks. By shallow rivers, to whose falls melodious birds sing madrigals. A belt of straw and ivy buds, with coral clasps and amber studs: and if these pleasures may thee move, com live with me and by my Love. And I will make thee beds of roses and a thousand fragrant posies, a cap of flowers, and a kirtle embroidered all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the finest wool, which from our pretty lambs we pull, fair linèd slippers for the cold, with buckles of the purest gold. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing for thy delight each May-morning: if these delights the mind may move, then live with me and be my Love," Draco recited as they walked down to Hogsmeade, hand in hand.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Hermione and Draco had decided to throw caution and image concern to the wind and go find more poetry books.

"That's really beautiful, Draco," Hermione said, holding his hand tighter. "Who wrote it?"

"Are you implying that you don't think I wrote it?" Draco demanded. Hermione grinned at him. "All right, it's Christopher Marlowe."

"Christopher Marlowe wrote beautiful poems," Hermione said. "I love hearing you orate them. Maybe we should start a poetry reading, then the whole school can know your secret love!"

Draco blanched. "Please no," he said. Hermione laughed again.

"I won't," she promised.

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After spending the day in the bookstore, they walked to The Three Broomsticks, and sat down at a table, talking animatedly about poetry. Draco ordered a large ice cream sundae, and they ate it with butterbeer.

Just as Ron and Harry spotted Hermione, Draco leaned over to kiss her, as there was a bit of whipped cream on her lip. Ron charged over, pulled Draco away, and punched him in the chest.

"You bastard!" Ron yelled, kicking Draco's midriff. Draco grunted, and fell to the ground, folding over in pain. Hermione grabbed Ron.

"Ron!" she yelled. He looked at her. "Stop it! Leave him alone!" She knelt beside Draco. "Draco, are you all right?"

"Git punched my solar plexus," Draco croaked out. "When he kicked me," cough, "he kicked my wind out." Hermione glared at Ron.

"Ron Weasley! How could you do that!" she exclaimed. "You've no right to hurt Draco!"

Ron stared at her. "Since when do you bloody call him 'Draco'?" he asked, equally as mad. "And yes, I did have a right! You are my girlfriend, he's my enemy! He's not allowed to touch you!"

"You're wrong, Ron," Hermione said.

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "About what?"

"I'm not your girlfriend anymore." She helped Draco stand up. "I'm dating Draco Malfoy."

"You're joking," Ron said. "Ha-ha! It's not funny, Hermione."

"Why does it have to be a joke, Ron?" put it Ginny, who had arrived with Blaise.

"Ginny! Get away from him!" Ron said futilely.

Ginny scoffed at her brother. "Ron, this is Blaise Zabini. Yes, he's a Slytherin, but no, he's not mean or evil or a Death Eater. He is, however my boyfriend. And you know what? Mum's met him. Two months ago. She flooed down just to meet Blaise. Like him, too."

Ron looked like he was about to explode. "You- Hermione- No- Can't date!"

"Ron," Hermione said, "I am dating Draco Malfoy, and there is nothing you can do about it."

Ron sighed. "I guess not," he said. Looking at Ginny he gave her a pleading glance. She shook her head 'No'. "Was worth a shot," he muttered. Looking at his sister and best friend's boyfriend's, he glared at them. "You take care of them," he threatened, "or else."

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One Month After That...

"It lies not in our power to love or hate, for will in us is overruled by fate. When two are stripped, long ere the course begin, we wish that one should lose, the other win; and one especially do we affect or two gold ingots, like in each respect: the reason no man knows; let it suffice what we behold is censured by our eyes. Where both deliberate, the love is slight: who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?" Draco recited to Hermione, walking by the lake.

Hermione sighed, and hung onto his arm tighter. "That's beautiful," she said. Draco slid his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck.

He grinned down at her. His slate gray eyes twinkled with mirth and love. "I'm glad you think so," he said. "Because I think you're beautiful."

She tilted her head onto his should and sighed. Draco cleared his throat.

"O my love is like a red, red, rose..."

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**A/N:** Well? What do you think? As I said, I rather liked it. I'll be sure to post the beta'd version as soon as I've got it. Please review!!!!!

- Manion


	2. Edited Version

**10/27/04**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter

**A/N:** So, this is the beta'd version of _Phantom of Delight_. Thanks to my beta James. It has a few differences than the first version, and it includes a break-up scene. Enjoy!

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"You don't understand," Ron fumed.

"Then make me understand, Ronald!" Hermione yelled at him. "Tell me why you would copy my assignment and hand it in as yours!"

Ron threw a pillow into the fireplace. He looked, pleading, at Harry, who was watching from a safe distance, wand at the ready. Harry looked away, not meeting Ron's eyes.

"You're so bleeding smart," he hissed, "why should you care?" Hermione gasped at him. He went on mercilessly. "If I fail this course, then I'd be a laughingstock. I _can't_ look idiotic and ignorant in front of everyone. You, you're so smart, you can just write another paper off the top of your head. Why should me taking one paper matter _so much_?"

"Ronald Weasley," Hermione spat. "You are the biggest wanker in the history of this school." She slapped him across the face. "I will never speak to you again, unless you apologize." She whirled around and marched out of the common room in a rage.

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Hermione ran to the corridor, down the staircases and all the way to the library, where she sat down on a chair at the back of the Arithmancy section, where she started to sob.

'You're so bleeding smart. Why should you care?' 

'_Why should me taking one paper matter so much?'_

"Well, well, well," a cold drawl washed over her. She looked up; Draco Malfoy was leaning on a bookcase, a cold look in his gray eyes. "What have we here? A Mudblood pity-party." He smirked. "Oh, wait. All your days are pity-parties, Granger."

"Bugger off, Malfoy," she spat.

Malfoy moved closer. "Aw, is the little Mudblood crying? Something happened with Potty and the Weasel?"

"Hey." They turned. Ron, accompanied by Professor McGonagall, was standing where Malfoy had been only a moment before.

McGonagall marched over to Malfoy and grabbed his collar. "Mr. Malfoy! Really! Twenty-five points from Slytherin! Kicking someone when she's down. I will be having a word with your Head of House, believe me." She dragged him away.

Ron approached Hermione tentatively. Holding out a scroll, he sat down next to her, braving her glare. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said. "I- I told McGonagall what I did. Here's your paper back."

Hermione took the scroll and unwound it. On the top of the paper was a 'O'. She looked up at Ron, slightly tearstained, and cried a bit more.

"Aw, Hermione," he said, hugging her and stroking her hair. "Don't cry."

"Ron, you misunderstand," she sniffed, "these are happy tears."

He looked down at her for a moment, then bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips. She reciprocated, and soon they were kissing deeply.

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Two Months Later...

Hermione and Ron, hands twined together, walked with Harry down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Sitting down, Hermione glanced up from her breakfast to see Malfoy watching her, oblivious to Parkinson talking to him. When he saw her look back, he glanced away, and fixed his eyes on Blaise Zabini, who was motioning rather violently about something.

Ginny tapped her shoulder. Hermione jumped a bit then looked over at the girl sitting next to her. "Hi, Ginny."

"Morning, Hermione," Ginny replied. She picked up a piece of toast and nonchalantly said, "Blaise Zabini's quite good-looking, don't you think?"

Hermione glanced at the aforementioned boy. "I suppose so," she agreed.

"And he doesn't seem like a typical Slytherin," Ginny said, buttering her toast. "You know, like Malfoy."

"No, he doesn't." Hermione flicked a glance at Ron, who was energetically describing a move he'd seen at a Quidditch game that summer. "Why?"

Ginny's face turned red. "Oh, um," she said, "no reason. None at all. Was just mentioning it, that's all." 

"Oh," Hermione said, smiling a bit at her friend. "Sure."

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That weekend, Hermione, Ron and Harry set out for Hogsmeade, chatting excitedly about buying things at Zonko's, the new Weasley's Wizarding Wheeze's opening up, and, of course, butterbeer from The Three Broomsticks.

As Ron and Harry went into Quality Quidditch Supplies, Ron kissed Hermione and she made her way to the new bookstore, a branch of Flourish and Blotts. She smiled at him and went off.

She opened the door to the store, and grinned widely at the books stacked everywhere. Walking down an aisle, she picked up a book on 11th century politics. Reading, she leant against the bookcase behind her.

A voice drifted to her ears. "O my love is like a red, red rose, that's newly sprung in June. O my love is like the melody that's sweetly played in tune." Hermione crept closer. She saw a flash of blonde.

"As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, so deep in love am I, and I will love thee still, my dear, till all the seas gang dry." She stood some ways off, watching this man read. His free hand motioned as he read aloud, not aware of his audience.

"Till all the seas gang dry, my dear, and the rocks melt with the sun! And I will love thee still my dear, while the sands of life shall run." He stepped to his right, then backwards.

"And fare thee well, my only love, and fare thee well a while! And I will come again, my love, though it were ten thousand mile." Hermione heard a snap as the man closed the leather-bound volume of poems. She sighed, then clapped a hand over her mouth as he turned around sharply. It was Malfoy.

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Draco turned around at the sound behind him and saw Granger standing some ways down, looking mortified at him as he walked towards her.

He looked at her, really looked, and saw two small tears in her eyes, glistening.

Before he said anything, she spoke. "Before you berate me, Malfoy," she said, "I want to tell you that that was really beautiful."

For a moment, he allowed himself to be shocked. Then he plastered a sneer on his face. "Really, Mudblood? I suppose I should be insulted to hear someone impure and idiotic enough to date the Weasel telling me that my orating is 'beautiful'." She looked a bit defeated.

"I don't see, Malfoy," she snapped back at him, "why everything I say to you must be taken out of context or as an insult. My statement was made outside of my prejudices and was kindly meant. If you chose to take it as an insult, that's your problem."

He stared at her as she marched past him, up the poetry aisle, and disappeared out the door. Shaking himself, he walked back to the shelf and picked out a few more books as he went along to the cashier.

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Hermione stalked to Honeyduke's, fuming, to find Ginny. She opened the door to the store and stormed through the store. Stopping for a moment, she walked over to the truffle aisle and saw Ginny and Blaise Zabini laughing together over something. Hermione smiled slightly.

"Hello, Ginny, Blaise," she said. They froze.

"He- Hermione," Ginny said. "Please don't tell Ron. He- He wouldn't like it. Not yet."

Hermione smiled. "I won't." She looked at Ginny expectantly. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your charming —and speechless— boyfriend?" 

Ginny giggled. "Blaise, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Blaise Zabini, my boyfriend," she said. Blaise and Hermione shook hands.

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Draco pushed the door to Honeyduke's open and sniffed arrogantly at the third-years that passed him as he walked sedately to the truffle aisle to look for Blaise. He thought his friend would like a look at the poetry books as well, and he wanted to meet this mystery girl of his, bigotry –as Blaise had needled him into promising– laid aside.

As he turned the corner, his eyes fell on Blaise, Granger, and the youngest Weasel.

"Well, well," he drawled, "what's this?"

Blaise fixed him with a glare. "Draco," he said, "this is my girlfriend, Ginny."

Draco froze. Girlfriend? When did that happen? "Girlfriend? Weasley?" he managed to croak out.

Granger looked rather smug. She must've known about it. "Wow, Malfoy, speechless? Fascinating." She looked at the Weasel— Ginny, he had to call her, for Blaise. "I should take a picture. It would last longer."

"Ha, ha, Granger," he retorted. "I'm paralyzed with laughter. See?"

"All I see is a git," she muttered. Ginny elbowed her. "What?"

"You see why I didn't tell you!" the Weasley told Granger. "And why Blaise didn't tell you, Malfoy," she said, shaking her finger at him. "Because you two would just fight. Imagine what Ron and Harry are going to say."

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Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, Ginny," she said. She looked pointedly at Malfoy, who, for a moment, looked confused. Then he got it.

"Sorry, Blaise," he said grudgingly.

"That's all well and good," Blaise said, holding Ginny's hand. "But how do we know that you two will keep our secret?"

"I promise I won't tell Harry and Ron," Hermione said.

"I promise that I won't lord my knowledge of this over Potty and the Weasel, causing them to tease me that I don't know anything about Ginny, causing me to get mad and blurt everything out stupidly," Draco said.

"That's nice," Ginny said. "But we do need you two to help us out. There aren't many private places at the Castle, and we need you two to keep Harry and Ron away from us during our dates."

Hermione glanced at Malfoy. He shrugged, unconcerned. "Sure," he said. "It seems like a laugh."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll help, too." Ginny laughed and hugged Hermione.

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Hermione walked with Ginny to The Three Broomsticks, where they waited for Harry and Ron.

Fifteen minutes later, Blaise and Malfoy came in. Blaise walked over and kissed Ginny quickly.

"Blaise!" She giggled. "You shouldn't do that in public, where Ron and Harry might see you!" she hissed at him. Hermione and Malfoy rolled their eyes.

"I know," Blaise said, "but I couldn't help it." The door started to creak open, and he and Malfoy fled to a table on the opposite end of the room.

Harry and Ron came in, each holding Quality Quidditch Supplies bags, chatting about what they had purchased.

"Hey!" Hermione said, waving to them. They saw her and made their way over to Hermione and Ginny's table.

"Hey, love," Ron murmured, kissing Hermione. She smiled at him when he pulled back, but didn't say anything. "So," he went on, "where'd you two go?"

"Well," Hermione said, "I went to the bookstore, and," Ginny nudged her under the table, "later met up with Ginny at Honeyduke's," she went on, rubbing her side. "And we looked at chocolates."

"Okay," Harry said. "Anyone want butterbeer? My treat." Everyone nodded, and he went off to the bar.

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"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Draco sighed. Closing his book, he drank the last bit of his butterbeer —contrary to popular belief, he didn't drink alcohol— and looked at his best friend. "Blaise," he said, "for the sake of everything that is holy, and some things that aren't,_ please_ shut up about your girlfriend. I have no interest in you moaning on and on about her while I'm trying to read _The Night Has A Thousand Eyes_."

"What," Blaise said, "in the world is that?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco read, "The night has a thousand eyes, and the day but one; yet the light of the bright world dies with the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, and the heart but one; yet the light of a whole life dies when love is done." Draco smiled, a rare thing. "That's true beauty, Blaise. When someone can express their feelings through words in such a way that's so eloquent that everyone who reads it falls in love with it."

Blaise patted Draco's shoulder. "You, my friend, might be a deeper and more introspective man than I," he said. "But, that is not necessarily a bad thing."

Draco rolled his eyes again and picked up his books, placing them in his bag, then got up. "I'll see you, Blaise," he said.

"Where're you going?"

"Back to the Castle," Draco replied.

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Hermione saw Malfoy leave, and got up herself. She picked up her bag, and smiled at Ron, Harry and Ginny.

"I'm going to go back now," she said.

"Back where?" Ron asked.

"Hogwarts, silly," she said, pecking him on the cheek. "I'll see you guys back at the Tower, okay?"

"All right," they said, and went back to discussing the Quidditch team.

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Hermione jogged to keep up with Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" she called. He stopped, and turned around, blonde hair falling into his eyes.

"What?" he asked, irritated. She caught up with him and stood puffing for a moment before answering.

"I was thinking," she started.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically.

Hermione frowned at him. "Ha, ha, Malfoy. Please be serious."

"I am always serious," he replied, smirking.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Now, I was thinking that we should at least learn to be civil to one another if we're to 'help' Blaise and Ginny out by keeping Ron and Harry off their backs." Malfoy laughed. "What?"

Malfoy responded, "I just had an image of Potty and the Weasley on Blaise and Ginny's back whilst they were snogging." He laughed some more. "Sorry. Do go on."

Hermione sniggered, realizing that it was, indeed, funny. "Well, so I thought we might try to find out some things about each other. Don't we have patrol tonight?"

Malfoy dug in his bag and glanced at a piece of paper. "Yes, at 8:30."

"So, maybe we could, you know, chat during patrol?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy sighed. "This goes extremely against my character," he muttered, "but since it's for Blaise and all, and he's my closest friend, I suppose we could." Louder he said, "Yes, Granger, I'll do it. Tonight at 8:30."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. She kept walking with him, and he looked at her, puzzled.

"Why are you still here?" he asked.

"While that is extremely rude," Hermione said, "and I shouldn't answer it, I will. I chose to walk back to Hogwarts, and I just happen to be walking with you."

"I was walking to get my broomstick," Malfoy said. "Since we're trying to be 'civil' and all, I suppose I should offer you a ride back." Hermione gulped. Malfoy laughed. "Don't tell me you're afraid of brooms?" he said, laughing. "Hermione Granger, the Perfect Prefect, is afraid of brooms?"

Hermione glared at him. "I am not afraid of brooms," she said. "I am afraid of heights."

"Then you are most definitely coming with me, Granger," he replied, tugging her arm. "Come on!" He pulled her over to a tree, and reached up to grab a broomstick hidden in its branches. "Nimbus 5000," he explained. "Supposed to be as fast as a Firebolt, but I doubt it." He mounted it, and pulled Hermione on behind him. "Hold on tight, now." He kicked off, and she grabbed the front of his robes.

"OhmyGod. OhmyGod. OhmyGod," Hermione repeated.

Malfoy laughed. Leaning forward, he accelerated over the walls of Hogwarts and they flew over the lake. The Giant Squid was pulling limbs off of trees from a deep cove and cheerfully throwing them at squirrels. Landing softly on a clear patch of grass, he helped her off the broom, and looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Now," Malfoy said, "was that so bad?"

Hermione glared at him, thanked him abruptly, and stalked off, leaving a puzzled Malfoy behind her.

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Three Months After That...

Draco and Hermione walked down the corridor laughing. He smiled down at her. Her cinnamon eyes gleamed in the torchlight. Her hair had been pulled out of her face with an elastic band. No longer bushy, it was incredibly thick. Hermione had once told him it was like a bear rug on top of her head in the summer.

"There were two cats of Kilkenny, each thought there was one too many, so they quarreled and they fought, the scratched and they bit, till barrin' their nails, and the tips of their tails, instead of two cats, there weren't any," recited Draco.

Hermione laughed. "Honestly, Draco," she said. "I don't know how you find all of those poems!"

"This is one of my favorites," he said, grinning. "I never saw a Purple Cow, I never hope to see one; but I can tell you, anyhow, I'd rather see than be one."

Hermione laughed again. "This is one of my favorites," she replied. "Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker."

Draco's face split into a grin. He laughed.

They were patrolling the hallways near the classroom where Ginny and Blaise were on their date, to make sure Harry and Ron didn't stumble upon the lovebirds accidentally.

They heard voices and Draco stopped Hermione in the middle of the corridor, finger to his lips, shushing her.

"I dunno where she is, mate," Ron's voice said. "She didn't tell me. Said she'd be 'around'."

"That's okay, Ron, I just wanted to ask one question about the Transfiguration assignment," Harry replied. Hermione rolled her eyes. As their voices got nearer, she motioned to Draco that she didn't want to talk to them. He nodded, and pulled her into an alcove as Harry and Ron turned the corner.

Holding her against the wall, faces inches from one another, Draco looked at Hermione, breathing softly. He hesitated for a moment, hearing Harry and Ron's retreating footsteps, and then leaned over, kissing her.

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Hermione froze for an instant after Draco kissed her. Suddenly, sparks seemed to emerge from him into her, and her hands gravitated to wrap around his neck.

Several minutes passed by while they kissed, until Hermione regained her sense. Pushing Draco away, she shook her head. "I can't," she whispered.

He fingered a piece of her hair. "Why not?"

"Because," Hermione got a bit frantic, trying to think of something besides the obvious, "I'm not in love with you."

Draco looked at her. His face seemed to slip back into a mask as he nodded. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, turning away. "It was uncalled for. It won't happen again." He walked out, ignoring her when she called him back.

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Draco paced in the Slytherin common room until Blaise floated in, still on high after meeting up with Ginny.

Spotting Draco, he stopped. "What's up, mate?" he asked, plopping down onto a leather couch.

Draco raked a hand through his hair, brushing the locks out of his face irritably. "I'm in love with Hermione Granger," he muttered. "And I don't know how to solve it."

Blaise looked at him, eyebrows quirked. He coughed. "I didn't think that one usually wanted to solve love," he remarked.

"Well," Draco went on, "she doesn't love me."

"Ah," Blaise said. "Did she tell you that she doesn't love you?"

"Yes," Draco said, flicking a piece of lint into the fire.

"She did?" Blaise looked a bit shocked. "Well, you two like that mushy poetry that Ginny seems to hate and want to throw into the very depths of hell," Blaise went on, "so why don't you write out some of your favorite love poems and send them to her?"

Draco glanced at Blaise. "Good idea, Blaise," he said, running down the hall to his dormitory.

Blaise propped his feet up. "Of course it is," he said smugly.

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A week later, Draco put his plan into action so as to not let her think it was him. In that week, he saw her and the Weasel get closer and start to cuddle and paw each other in public. It almost made him sick.

Ginny, however, noticed his reaction and looked pityingly upon him. She had grown to dislike the idea of Hermione and Ron together, as much as she loved both of them, she didn't think they were right for one another, and wasn't too fond of them cuddling in plain view of most of the student body of Hogwarts.

So, Draco watched closely when the post arrived that morning, expertly observing without being observed.

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Hermione was surprised when an unfamiliar owl dropped a letter onto her plate at breakfast. Before it flew away, from what she could see, it looked like it was a school owl, so the person sending the letter didn't have an owl. Or they wished to be anonymous.

She picked up the letter. It had her name and address on it, but no return address. Flipping it over, she slit it open and unfolded the contents.

_She walks in beauty, like the night _

_Of cloudless climes and starry skies; _

_And all that's best of dark and bright _

_Meets in her aspect and in her eyes: _

_Thus mellowed to that tender light _

_Which Heaven to gaudy day denies. _

_One shade the more, one ray the less, _

_Had half impaired the nameless grace _

_Which waves in every raven tress, _

_Or softly lightens o'er her face; _

_Where thoughts serenely sweet express _

_How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. _

_And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, _

_So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, _

_The smiles that win, the tints that glow, _

_But tell of days in goodness spent, _

_A mind at peace with all below,_

_A heart whose love is innocent._

Hermione glanced at Ron, who was looking inquisitively at her. "Did you send this to me?" she asked, handing him the letter.

He read it, ears getting redder and redder. "No," he said shortly. "But when I find out who did, he's going to be pounded into the ground." He threw the letter down and glared at every male student that crossed his path as he left the Great Hall.

Hermione reached over and plucked the letter out of Ron's bread. Smoothing it out, she placed it into her bag and got up as the bell rang to go to class.

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The next day, the same owl swooped down and dropped an identical letter onto Hermione's plate. Ron turned red as she opened it and started to read.

_She was a phantom of delight _

_When first she gleamed upon my sight; _

_A lovely apparition, sent _

_To be a moment's ornament; _

_Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; _

_Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair; _

_But all things else about her drawn _

_From May-time and the cheerful dawn; _

_A dancing shape, an image gay, _

_To haunt, to startle, and waylay. _

_I saw her upon nearer view, _

_A spirit, yet a woman too! _

_Her household motions light and free, _

_And steps of virgin liberty; _

_A countenance in which did meet _

_Sweet records, promises as sweet; _

_A creature not too bright or good _

_For human nature's food, _

_For transient sorrows, simple wiles, _

_Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. _

_And now I see with eye serene _

_The very pulse of the machine; _

_A being breathing thoughtful breath, _

_A traveler between life and death; _

_The reason firm, the temperature will, _

_Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; _

_A perfect woman, nobly planned_

_To warn, to comfort, and command; _

_And yet a spirit still, and bright _

_With something of angelic light._

Hermione sniffed. Turning to Ginny, she remarked, "This admirer thinks of the most beautiful poems. William Wordsworth wrote this, Gin. Isn't it lovely?" Ginny read it obligingly, mocked something rude about poetry and as she was handing it back to Hermione, Ron grabbed it and read it.

"How dare this bastard!" he exploded. "How dare he hit on my girl!"

Hermione stiffened. "Ron," she said quietly, "I am not 'your' girl. I am not a possession. And I will thank you," she grabbed the letter back, "not to read my mail."

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Draco watched this, not hearing what they were saying, but knowing it wasn't good.

He leaned back in his seat, tuning out the grunting of Crabbe and Goyle as they slobbered and chowed down their food.

He watched Hermione the rest of the day, without her knowing.

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On Wednesday, Hermione received another letter.

_If thou must love me, let it be for naught _

_Except for love's sake only. Do not say, _

"_I love him for his smile —his look— his way _

_Of speaking gently,— for a trick of thought_

_That falls in well with mine, and certes brought _

_A sense of pleasant ease on such a day"—_

_For these things in themselves, Beloved, may _

_Be changed, or change for thee— and love, so wrought, _

_May be unwrought so. Neither love me for _

_Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry: _

_A creature might forget to weep, who bore _

_Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! _

_But love me for love's sake, and that evermore _

_Thou mayest love on, thought love's eternity. _

She smiled softly and folded the letter up. It felt nice, having someone writing her poetry, even though it wasn't theirs'. She liked having a secret admirer, who would likely never show his face. As her smile grew secret, her eyes wandered from her breakfast to the opposite end of the room. Their eyes connected and Hermione felt a shiver run down her body. Draco looked straight back at her, fiddling with a quill. Her heart stopped for a moment as he smiled and looked away, writing something on a piece of paper.

While she knew he liked her, and that he shared her love of poetry, he always seemed rather final about her decision. He never approached her since then, and she had even thought he was interested in someone else. She resolved to get a sample of his writing, just to make sure he wasn't the admirer. She didn't need to wait, however, as his eagle owl swooped from his shoulder to drop a letter into her hands. Ron was, luckily, looking in another direction as the owl swooped off.

Draco stood, and left the Great Hall, giving Hermione a meaningful glance as he did. She ripped open the letter as she moved to a seat closer to the doors.

_Hermione, _

_Been getting any interesting mail lately? _

_D.M. _

Hermione gasped, upturning a second-year's bowl of porridge, and shoved the letter in her bag as she jumped from the table and dashed out of the Great Hall.

As the doors shut behind her, she looked everywhere in the Entrance Hall. Draco was nowhere to be seen. She sighed, and went on to class early.

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It was Saturday before she got another letter. All the rest of that week she had been on edge, stiffening every time she accidentally bumped into Draco in the halls. She had also avoided Ron, which she felt awful for. But when the school owl swooped over her plate and a letter fell into her hands, she immediately looked at Draco, who was seated at the other end of the Hall. He nodded at her.

_How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. _

_I love thee to the depth and breadth and height _

_My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight _

_For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. _

_I love thee to the level of everyday's _

_Most quiet need by sun and candle-light. _

_I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; _

_I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. _

_I love thee with the passion put to use _

_In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. _

_I love thee with a love I seemed to lose_

_With my lost saint,--I love thee with the breath, _

_Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, _

_I shall love thee better after death. _

_D.M. _

Hermione looked back up at him. His eyes seemed to be on fire. She liked the way it seemed to fill her up, finding every corner and nook and warming the coldest places. When Ron looked at her, all she felt was fuzz, a sisterly love that seemed to cover everything he did.

She nodded slightly at Draco, and got up without any signs of excitement or over-eagerness. Draco rose moments after her and followed Hermione out of the Great Hall, but without giving the appearance of following.

Once out, they ran down a corridor and burst outdoors. He grabbed her hand and led her to a secluded area. Taking both of her hands, he murmured, "I found this place in third year. I come here to think, or do school work." She glanced up at him. He didn't wait, and leaned down to kiss her thoroughly.

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"Come live with me and be my Love, and we will all the pleasures prove that valleys, groves, hills, and fields, woods or steepy mountains yields. And we will sit upon the rocks seeing the shepherds feed their flocks. By shallow rivers, to whose falls melodious birds sing madrigals. A belt of straw and ivy buds, with coral clasps and amber studs: and if these pleasures may thee move, com live with me and by my Love. And I will make thee beds of roses and a thousand fragrant posies, a cap of flowers, and a kirtle embroidered all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the finest wool, which from our pretty lambs we pull, fair linèd slippers for the cold, with buckles of the purest gold. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing for thy delight each May-morning: if these delights the mind may move, then live with me and be my Love," Draco recited as they walked down to Hogsmeade, hand in hand.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Hermione and Draco had decided to throw caution and image concern to the wind and go find more poetry books.

"That's really beautiful, Draco," Hermione said, holding his hand tighter. "Who wrote it?"

"Are you implying that you don't think I wrote it?" Draco demanded. Hermione grinned at him. "All right, it's Christopher Marlowe."

"Christopher Marlowe wrote beautiful poems," Hermione said. "I love hearing you orate them. Maybe we should start a poetry reading, then the whole school can know your secret love of poetry."

Draco blanched. "Please no," he said. Hermione laughed again.

"I won't," she promised.

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Hermione left Draco in the Entrance Hall, and went to find Ron. He, Harry, and Ginny were in the Tower, discussing Quidditch.

"Ron?" she said. He looked up. "Can I talk to you? Privately?" He nodded, and made excuses to Harry and Ginny and walked over.

"What is it, love?" Ron asked warmly.

"Ron," Hermione swallowed hard, "I love you, but only as a brother. I don't think this is working out. I- I want to break up, Ron."

Ron stared at her. "What?"

"I'm sorry Ron," she said. She turned around and walked out of the Tower, back to Draco.

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After spending the day in the bookstore, they walked to The Three Broomsticks and sat down at a table, talking animatedly about poetry. Draco ordered a large ice cream sundae, and they ate it with butterbeer.

Just as Ron and Harry spotted Hermione, Draco leaned over to kiss her, as there was a bit of whipped cream on her lip. Ron charged over, pulled Draco away, and punched him in the chest.

"You bastard!" Ron yelled, kicking Draco's midriff. Draco grunted, and fell to the ground, folding over in pain. Hermione grabbed Ron.

"Ron!" she yelled. He looked at her. "Stop it! Leave him alone!" She knelt beside Draco. "Draco, are you all right?"

"Git punched my solar plexus," Draco croaked out. Hermione glared at Ron.

"Ron Weasley! How could you do that!" she exclaimed. "You've got no right to hurt Draco!"

Ron stared at her. "Since when do you bloody call him 'Draco'?" he asked, equally mad. "And yes, I did have a right! You are my friend and heis my enemy! He's not allowed to touch you!"

"Yes he is, Ron," Hermione said.

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "About what?"

She helped Draco stand up. "I'm dating Draco, Ron."

"You're joking," Ron said. "Ha-ha! It's not funny, Hermione."

"Why does it have to be a joke, Ron?" put in Ginny, who had arrived with Blaise.

"Ginny! Get away from him!" Ron said futilely.

Ginny scoffed at her brother. "Ron, this is Blaise Zabini. Yes, he's a Slytherin, but no, he's not mean or evil or a Death Eater. He is, however my boyfriend. And you know what? Mum's met him. Two months ago. She flooed down just to meet Blaise. Liked him, too."

Ron looked like he was about to explode. "You- Hermione- No- Can't date!"

"Ron," Hermione said, "I am dating Draco Malfoy, and there is nothing you can do about it."

Ron sighed. "I guess not," he said. Looking at Ginny he gave her a pleading glance. She shook her head 'No'. "Was worth a shot," he muttered. Looking at his sister and best friend's boyfriends, he glared at them. "You take care of them," he threatened, "or else."

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One Month After That...

"It lies not in our power to love or hate, for will in us is overruled by fate. When two are stripped, long ere the course begin, we wish that one should lose, the other win; and one especially do we affect or two gold ingots, like in each respect: the reason no man knows; let it suffice what we behold is censured by our eyes. Where both deliberate, the love is slight: who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?" Draco recited to Hermione, walking by the lake.

Hermione sighed, and hung onto his arm tighter. "That's beautiful," she said. Draco slid his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck.

He grinned down at her. His slate gray eyes twinkled with mirth and love. "I'm glad you think so," he said. "Because I think you're beautiful."

She tilted her head onto his shoulder and sighed. Draco cleared his throat.

"O my love is like a red, red, rose..."

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**A/N:** So, how'd you like the beta'd version? Better or worse than the original? Please review!


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